


That Salem Kid

by areyoukiddingme



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 1920s, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoukiddingme/pseuds/areyoukiddingme
Summary: Following that Salem kid around has consequences.





	

I stepped off of the train platform, wrapping my coat around myself and pursing my lips as I stepped into the swarms of people commuting. The train had broken down halfway to my destination and now I had to walk halfway across the city and find an obscure bus stop to get into work on time. I shoved against the crowds of people, clutching onto my hat as I was pushed this way and that until I finally reached the point where the crowds thinned. I re-adjusted my coat and fur before continuing, keeping an eye out for the bus that the kind man on the platform had instructed me towards. 

As I was walking, I noticed the steady stream of people were parting to make way for one young man stood in the middle of the pavement. As I drew closer, I realised that he was really rather handsome. His sallow skin was reminiscent of another time when we used to admire a man who didn’t go outside. His pale neck extended from a stiff white collar with a black tie that looked tight enough to choke him along with a neat little blazer. It looked as though his mother still cut his hair with that atrocious style of simply cutting a straight line across the scalp, but his cheekbones were impressive enough to make up for that. He was holding out something, which explained why the commuters were avoiding him like the plague, if it were raising money for the numerous bums in the area or something along those lines. Seeing as he was so terribly pretty, I thought to break the mould. I approached him and his eyes widened as I reached out and picked up one of his leaflets. 

“Witches huh?” I picked out the word that had the largest font on the page. I looked up and he nodded stiffly. 

“I never believed in them myself.” I muttered while scanning the rest of the leaflet. “I’ve always thought that they simply burned people that they were scared of. People who thought differently to them, had new ideas.”

I glanced up and saw him staring at me out of the corner of his eye. When I noticed that, his gaze shifted quickly and his jaw clenched. He was obviously not well versed in people skills. 

“What about you? Do you believe in witches?” I asked, making a pathetic attempt at conversation. 

His eyes suddenly darkened and he turned abruptly on the spot and started stalking away from me. 

“Hey!” I called after him, but he merely expertly weaved his way through the crowd, not even turning back to look at me. 

Now he was not just a pretty face. Now he was mysterious, something to unravel. He distracted me so that I was late for work, apologising profusely and complaining about the trains, despite having missed two buses while talking to him. 

*

The next day the trains were perfectly on time and working, but I got off on the same stop where they had broken down yesterday. I had the _idle_ hope that I’d find him again, but my heart stuttered as I found him in exactly the same place where he was standing yesterday, handing out the same leaflets with the same sullen look on his face. I put on my most disarming style, starting to approach him when he was suddenly led away by a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair. I stopped in my tracks, watching the pair disappear into a dark alley. 

I hesitated before following them; I hadn’t made such a detour only to _not_ talk to the pretty stranger. I walked slowly into the alley, the moment the walls rose around either side of me the noise and hustle of the street suddenly dimmed, so much so that I could hear my heels tapping on the concrete. I winced with every step, having to stay far behind the duo so they wouldn’t be suspicious as the rest of the alley was completely deserted.

I managed to keep track of them to the end of the alley, but when they made an abrupt right turn I lost them. I approached the turn, looking down the alley but seeing no-one. There was no way that they had travelled so fast. I continued cautiously, thinking that perhaps there was a turning that I was unaware of. I found no turning but kept walking, making random turns and delving further into the labyrinth that comprised the back streets of this city. I kept walking but came across no-one so I stopped in my tracks, frustrated. 

Then I suddenly realised that I had no idea where I was and how to get out. I inwardly panicked, turning to take the same path that in had taken on the way in, only to discover I couldn’t remember it. I kept walking, feeling like I was only going further into the labyrinth when suddenly I crashed into the chest of someone. I stumbled backwards, looking up only to see the handsome boy I had been following. I blushed before righting myself, smiling confidently at him as if I knew where I was and where I was going. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” I said, trying not to sound flustered. 

“Yes.” He responded in a monotone voice, refusing to meet my gaze. 

“I was just-”

“Were you following me?” He interrupted me, staring at me evenly. 

“No, I…” I spoke quickly, before sighing. I wasn’t going to get away with this. “Yes. I’m sorry, you’re just so mysterious. I’ll.. go.”

I turned, having truly embarrassed myself. 

“Wait.” He urged and I stopped in my tracks. “Did you call me mysterious?”

“Yes.” I turned to him. 

“I don’t mean to be.” He said softly, looking up at me through hooded eyes. 

“Don’t think it’s a bad thing.” I gushed, stepping back towards him. “Well, seeing as I’ve followed you down an alley, I may as well introduce myself. Evelyn Adler.”

I held my hand out and he stared at it, crossing his arms tighter around himself. I dropped it, guessing that he wasn’t comfortable with physical contact. He hadn’t run away yet though, I was doing better than last time. 

“Credence. Credence Barebone.” He introduced himself, nodding at me. 

“Barebone? That’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?” I let out a short burst of laughter but he didn’t even smile so I sobered quickly. 

“And ‘Credence’. Your mother religious?”

He hesitated before nodding. 

“It’s a nice name.” I twisted my hands together, shoulders tensing. “I read your leaflet. You’re one of those Salem kids, aren’t you? I’ve heard… things about what goes on there.” 

His jaw clenched and he tensed up, turning on the spot and starting to stalk away from me. 

“Wait! Credence, please!” I called after him but he ignored me, continuing to walk. 

“You can’t do this to me every time.” I muttered to myself, kicking the dust at my feet before following his route out of the alley. 

*

I followed the address written on the small scrap of paper, entering into the poorer area of the city, pulling my coat closer to myself as I saw the grubbied children on the street and the wizened old people sitting on their porches, staring at me. I didn’t belong here. 

I looked at the door then back to the address, ensuring that this was the right place. There were weathered signs plastered with 'Salem’ but I didn’t want to believe it, it hurt to know that Credence lived here. 

I rapped on the door, staring at the painted signs until the door opened. It swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman with cropped dark hair and a stern face that quickly broke into a smile the moment she saw me. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Yes, I’d like to join your movement.” 

She looked taken aback by my statement and seemed to think for a moment before letting me inside. 

“I usually take on children. Orphans.” She explained to me. “But seeing as you’re so eager…” 

“I’ve always believed in witches.” I lied, plastering on a fake smile. 

“And believed them to be a threat?” She asked sharply. 

“Of course.” I stuttered, my smile fading. 

“Good.”

There was something off about her, something behind the smiles and matronly manner that she was hiding. 

“Children, we have a new recruit.” She ushered in a uniform line of small children, all malnourished and some of them dirty and cut. They were cheerful enough to make up for that though, all grinning inanely at me and rushing around me, swarming my legs and shouting at me excitedly. 

“Children!” The woman shouted and they all fell quiet immediately. She had them in good check. 

“Dinner will be a few hours. Introduce the new girl. I won’t be long.” She smiled a sinister smile before disappearing out of the back door. 

All of the children talked in a cacophony of noise, shouting things about witches and leaflets and in the most cases, simply what they did that day. I actually rather enjoyed myself, listening to the kids and feeding off of their enthusiasm that you tend to lose once you’re grown up. I kept talking until I noticed their enthusiasm flag, most of them looking over my shoulder, their faces falling. I turned to see what it was but before I could my arm was pulled backwards and I was dragged towards the front door. I looked up to see Credence, his expression stormy as he yanked me along. He was holding onto my hand firmly and I could feel rough ridges extending along his palm. Was he holding onto something that I was unaware of?

“Credence? What’s wrong?” I asked in anguish. He simply continued walking before dropping me off onto the street. 

“Go away. Go away and don’t come back.” He pushed at me, sounding strained. I caught sight of his hands; he wasn’t holding onto anything, it was scarred. His hands were _covered_ in scars. 

“Credence, your hands.” I said in awe, reaching out to inspect them but he balled his hands into to fists by his sides. 

“Get out!” He shouted and I stumbled backwards, unused to seeing him so animated. 

“What are you doing to the new girl Credence?” I could hear a soft, low voice coming from the doorway and Credence lowered his gaze to the floor, shoulders tensing. 

“Come inside.” She spoke warningly and he glanced at me before following her inside and up the stairs. I followed them on tip-toes, hearing her say 'take it off’ but I didn’t know what she was referring to. The kids were still in a crowd downstairs so I joined them, hushing them as I struggled to hear what was going on upstairs. 

“What’s happening to Credence?” I asked them softly. 

“He’s being disciplined.” One of the youngest children in the crowd lisped and I felt slightly sickened. Someone so young shouldn’t know about 'discipline’. 

“Yeah, we all get it.” Another chipped in, showing me their grubbied palms laced with white scars.

One by one they showed me their scars and as they got younger and younger I was more and more horrified. She hit every single one of these children. Then everything clicked into place; Credence didn’t dislike me, he was trying to _protect_ me. From the woman with the sweet smiles and lethal whip. 

I heard a crack from upstairs followed by a low whimper and I jumped up abruptly. I couldn’t deal with this. I backed up out of the room, leaving the poor children who pulled at my clothing, urging me not to go. I looked up at the upstairs windows as I stepped into the street, very close to tears as I blew a kiss at the window. The poor boy. 

*

Someone should tell someone about what’s going on with those Salem kids. That’s what I thought to myself while staring at the crackling fire in my living room. What I had seen the other day had deeply disturbed me so I didn’t have the heart to make another journey to that side of the city. I felt so useless, there just didn’t seem to be anything I could do. 

Then a knock. I looked back at the door, hesitating before getting up. I wasn’t expecting anyone. 

I opened the door only to see Credence, his head hanging and shoulder leaning against the door post. 

“My goodness, Credence! Did you come all the way from home?” I asked worriedly. He didn’t answer so I ushered him inside. It was raining heavily outside and he was dripping all over the floor so I set him in front of the fire, his actions passive and I led him with ease. 

“Credence? Are you alright?” I touched his cheek softly and he didn’t even flinch. 

I pulled at his blazer, trying to rid him of all of that sopping clothing but he clenched his arms to his sides, refusing to let me take it off. 

“Come now Credence.” I said gently and he reluctantly loosened his arms, allowing me to pull the blazer off of his back. Then I realised why he was so determined not to take it off. There was crimson blood seeping through his crisp white shirt in large stripes that looked like whip marks covering his entire back. My stomach dropped and I pressed my hand firmly to my mouth, determined not to make a sound and freak him out, which was so easy to do. I looked to the ceiling, blinking back tears while I set his blazer down on the back of a chair. 

I reached out as if to touch his back before thinking better of it, imagining how much pain he must be in. And yet he wasn’t making a sound, his head was drooping and he kept facing towards the open fire. I passed in front of him, kneeling before him and tried to think of something to say. 

“Did _she_ do this to you?” I asked in a low voice. 

His jaw clenched and he kept his eyes fixated on the fire, wringing his hands together in his lap. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. Do you mind awfully if I…” I gestured to his shirt. 

He looked down at his chest before looking back up at me with wide eyes, but he didn’t answer. I reached out, pulling his buttons apart with shaking hands and pushing his shirt over his shoulders slowly, exposing his pale midriff. His chest contracted as I stared at it and I quickly stood up, running to the kitchen to find my mother’s herbal remedies. I came back to Credence, stomach flipping as I saw the wounds as they really were, raw and exposed and still bleeding heavily. I pressed rags against them to staunch the bleeding before dipping them in my mother’s remedies. 

“This is going to sting.” I warned him before applying the remedy. He inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing and I winced as I kept the rags pressed to his back. It was for his own good. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I kept muttering as I repeatedly applied the salve. 

I finished dabbing at the gaping wounds, the cloth I used now dyed with blood as I wrung it out, Credence sitting obediently and passively before me. I pressed my fingertips gently to his shoulders and he flinched automatically. 

“Come with me.” I urged him to stand up, leading him upstairs to my bedroom and setting him down on my bed, face first so as to not irritate his back. 

“Sleep now, dear. Worry in the morning.” I muttered, pulling up the sheets around him.

He had been so silent and unresponsive that I leaned down to double-check he was still breathing; his eyes were glassy and his gaze was distant, but he was most definitely alive. My face fell, my heart breaking for him all over again as I impulsively leaned down and pressed my lips softly to his forehead before leaving the room hurriedly. 

I went down the stairs slowly, picking up Credence’s blazer and soiled shirt before bringing them up to his room. When I re-entered the room he had his eyes closed and I desperately hoped that he was asleep, passed out and free from worry or pain. I went back downstairs and built up the fire to ensure that he was warm enough, before setting up my spare blankets on the sofa and settling down to an anxious night. 

I awoke in the early hours of the morning as there were no curtains in my front room. I then continued to sleep restlessly until soft noises from upstairs woke me. I propped myself up on my elbow, confirming that Credence was awake before stretching and starting to head upstairs. I peered through the door to see Credence attempting to right himself, despite the pain in his back. 

“Here.” I said softly, rushing to his side and helping him to sit upright on the side of the bed. 

“What happened yesterday?” He asked, running his hand down his face with a worried look. Then he looked down, and, seeing he was shirtless, shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” I asked, looking to him in confusion. “Do you not remember?”

“No. I remember… pain, and I remember-” he averted his gaze quickly, an almost-blush tinging his cheeks “-you putting me to bed. But apart from that…”

“You don’t remember.”

“No.”

“Well, I don’t know what happened before you came to my house, but I _can_ explain why you’re in so much pain.” 

I picked up his white shirt that I had folded neatly the night before, unfolding it and showing him the bloody stripes that ran along the back of the shirt. He barely flinched when he saw it, as if he were expecting it, or, even worse, had seen it before. He pursed his lips before holding out his hand and I gave him the shirt reluctantly, which he proceeded to put on. Then he stood, retrieving his blazer and putting it on, even though he winced with every movement of his arms that stretched the skin on his back and pulled at the fresh wounds. He made a move to leave the room and I held my arm out, stopping his progress. 

“You’re not seriously considering going back, are you?” I asked in horror.

He clenched his jaw, making another move to leave but I pushed against his chest, making him stumble back. 

“You can’t. Not after what _she_ did to you.” I tried to convince him. 

“We don’t know it was her.” He said earnestly, his gaze fixed firmly to the floor. 

“Please Credence.” I uttered, reaching out to place my arm on his shoulder. “One more night. Even the best physician would make you stay another night.”

He slowly angled his head to look at my hand on his shoulder so I removed it quickly, drawing it back as though I had touched a red hot poker. 

“I can’t.” 

“You can. You can stay here, for as long as you want.” I gushed desperately. 

His eyes darkened and he pushed past me, hopping down the stairs while I followed in hot pursuit. 

“At least let me find you a new shirt.” I tried as a last resort while he had his hand on the door handle. 

“From where?” He asked shortly and while I floundered he opened the door. 

“You can’t leave your back in that state.” I said sadly. 

“I have before.” He said through his teeth. 

My stomach clenched and I held back a sob; I had barely slept last night and now I was a wreck, breaking down at someone else’s pain. He had been whipped before. And he will get whipped again if he goes back there.

“At least let me visit you.”

“No.” He retorted sharply. 

“Then what?” I expressed. 

“… I’ll visit you.”

“You can’t risk that.”

“There are times when she’s not at home.” He spoke flatly. 

“… Alright.” I agreed after a hesitation. “You have to promise though.”

“I promise.” He said with his back to me.

“Credence.” I snapped, turning him around and angling his face towards mine. “Promise me?”

His eyes reluctantly fixed to my gaze and he held it firmly, his lips still firmly pressed together in a straight line. He could be rather intimidating at this angle, I mused. 

“I promise.” He repeated, then turned and walked out of my house. 

I shut the door behind him, sloping into my front room and collapsing onto the sofa. I should have offered him money for a cab or something, although it was unlikely that he would have accepted it. Then I thought to myself; if he was completely out of it, he must have known where my house was. He must have visited before. 

For some reason, I envisioned him standing outside of my door, his palms beaten and bleeding as he held them up to the wood, ready to knock. Then a rush of insecurity passes over him and he scolds himself for being so stupid so he turns on his heel and walks away. Everything was so hopeless, but I couldn’t give up. I was in too deep. Not to mention too enamoured with Credence for my own good.


End file.
